My eyes screwed up tighter and tighter as the pain crawled on, getting stronger and engulfing more of my strength with every passing second. Each muscle was tight, wound like a spring ready to explode or snap under the pressure. I leant over my bed, pushing my hands into the duvet, my fingers twisting into unnatural positions causing them to crack and click under the strain. I tried to squeeze the pain that flowed through my body out into its surroundings. My toes curled against the carpet as I tried to keep my legs strong.
Tried to keep everything strong when all I wanted to do was cry.
Cry for the situation which became more and more real as each extreme bought of pain whipped me.
My aunt stood behind me, rubbing the bottom of my back where I could feel a strange pressure arising. The pressure was unlike anything of felt before as if my body was taking over control of my muscles without the permission of my brain.
It was getting so hard to deal with, too much pain. I wouldn't gain from it.
My teeth lost their grip on my throbbing bottom lip and I cried.
The sound of despair came from deep within my throat. A shriek; the sound of a child.
"Ssh, Sarah," my aunt tried her best to sooth but this was a long way from a graved knee or a fever and she hadn't done it, how could she possibly imagine.
The pain subsided slowly, dying away and leaving me panting for breath. My arms began to shake uncontrollable and felt like they were trapped in concrete which they knocked hard against each time they shook.
My aunt came to my side. Sitting on my bed and helping me turn to lie on the bed. I felt so bulky and awkward and the pain was draining so much. I was hot. I felt sick.
I wished it wasn't happening, but it was too late for that.
"Sarah," my aunt spoke. I could hear her but I was too exhausted to say anything. Too exhausted to move.
My aunt looked at me then and I saw her age, she looked tired. Her skin sagged under her eyes and creased at their edges. She'd gone through so much for me and I wasn't even her daughter.
"Love," she continued, brushing my fringe of my forehead where it had been glued down by sweat.
"I think you need to go to hospital now."
I shook my head, I couldn't. What if there was a problem? What if they noticed the scrawny little thing didn't make and scientific sense.
"No." It was supposed to be a shout but the noise left my voice as the half way mark between a cry and a whimper.
"Sarah, your too tired!" My aunt tried to protest but her voice never rose above a whisper. She was scared and I hated myself for making her scared but there was nothing to be done. It had to be this way.
"The phone number, I gave you a phone number," the pain was once again beginning to grow, to squeeze and pull and torture,
"Phone them. Ask for Dr Sullivan, tell Harry. Tell Harry he was right."
(a/n) hope you enjoyed please comment!